Dead Man In The Door Way
by Rose H. McKellen
Summary: Another tale of a strange kind.Can a young girl be the next Sherlock Holmes? Nope,but she can try.When young Annabell comes to visit her old friend DrWatson,she meets the strange man,Sherlock Holmes.And soon the girl finds herself involed in a dark Myster
1. The great detective

I was on my way to visit an old family friend, Dr. John Watson. He was staying in a place on Baker Street. My mother had just left to train as a nurse so I had to find lodging until my Grandfather was prepared for me.

When I was dropped of at No. 221 B Baker Street, I could smell strong tobacco

and I could hear a violin playing. My eyes went to the window, the drapes were down but

I could clearly see the shadows of two men. One man, who I note was thin, was playing

the wonderful music and the other were reading in front of the fire. I knew one had to be Dr. Watson, more than likely he the one was reading. I ran through the rain to the door and rang the bell.

"Hello?" someone said, as they opened the door.

"Dr. Watson?" I asked, knowing he was waiting for me to arrive.

"Hello, Annabelle, oh my goodness look at how much you've grown!" exclaimed Dr. Watson.

"You haven't changed a bit," I laughed. He always had said that when I was younger, but this time it was true. I hadn't seen him since I was ten years old; now I was fifteen..

Dr. Watson said, "Annabelle, I would like you to meet my companion."

A tall blonde man with hawk-like features came to the door. He had a violin in one hand and a bow in the other. His eyes sharp and piercing. He had to be over six feet tall and he was thin."Hello, you must be Annabelle," said the tall man, "You're about fifteen no older and you have a white long-haired cat..."

"This is Sherlock Holmes," interrupted Watson.

"Pray, sit down," added the tall man while sitting down in a green armchair and lighting a pipe.

I looked around seeing many different things. I saw some chemicals by the back

wall. Dr. Watson went to another room to get something. I remember when Dr. Watson first moved to Baker Street all the letters he sent us. Mr. Sherlock Holmes was definitely an interesting man.

Dr Watson walked in holding an envelope. "Here, your mother wrote you."

Dear Anna,

I hope you like where you're staying. I have just started my training. They said that I had great potential. Do you like Mr. Sherlock Holmes? Well ,if Dr. Watson moved in with him then he must be nice. Well ,I must be off.

Your-ever loveing mother,

Catherine McKellen.

After I had read this, I wondered how Mr. Holmes could have known all those things about me after just one look. Then I wondered why he was so silent. I remembered the newspaper articles that I had read: he was the writer. The great detective. Then my thoughts were broken when Dr. Watson came in to the room.

"Anna, would you like something to eat?" asked Dr. Watson.

"Yes please, I'm famished," I answered as I realized how long it had been since last ate.

"So, Miss McKellen, how is your mother?" asked Mr. Holmes as he put more tobacco in his pipe.

"How did you know my last name?" I asked, arching a brow.

"You're all he has talked about this whole week," he said, seeming not to care.

"Really, sir?" I asked.

"Pray, call me Holmes," he said slowly.

"Sir - I mean Holmes, are you the great detective that everyone chats about and who writes in the newspaper?" I inquired.

"You read those?" he gasped, sitting up looking at me in wonder.

"Yes, I enjoy reading your cases," I chuckled, feeling like a child.

At that moment, Dr. Watson walked in with three cups and some cookies on a silver tray. He placed the tray down on a table. Holmes stood up to take his tea, then sat down again. He surely was an interesting man. Personally, I felt very uncomfortable around him.

His gaze fell on me again, "So, Miss McKellen, how long do you plan on staying here?"

I quickly answered, "not long, a few days perhaps."

Holmes laid back in his chair, smoking his pipe. I noticed that Dr. Watson looked like he was thinking about something. I did nothing except sip my tea and eat a cookie or two politely. Finally, Watson broke the silence.

"Anna, how is your mother doing in her studies?" he asked smiling.

I looked at him trying to find words. "Well, mother said she was doing fine."

The clock struck ten. I yawned lightly, then finished my tea. Mr. Holmes finished his tea, then started to stand.

"Well, good night Watson, Miss McKellen," he said stumbling into his room. With that note, I was tired and getting very sleepy. It had been a long ride. Dr. Watson saw this and stood up. He took the tray to the kitchen and came back.

"You look tired," he said slowly.

"Yes, it has been a long day," I sighed.

"Follow me, I'll show you to your room."

So I went to bed. When I was alone in my quiet room, thoughts poured into my head about that strange man, Holmes. Watson must have told him about me. Wait, Dr. Watson didn't know I had a cat. What if Mr. Holmes is a genius- oh that's impossible.


	2. New Friends

I was on my way to visit an old family friend, Dr. John Watson. He was staying in a place on Baker Street

My mother had just left to train as a nurse so I had to find lodging until my Grandfather was prepared for me.

When I was dropped of at No. 221 B Baker Street, I could smell strong tobacco and I could hear a violin playing. My eyes went to the window, the drapes were down but I could clearly see the shadows of two men. One man, who I note was thin, was playing the wonderful music and the other were reading in front of the fire. I knew one had to be Dr. Watson, more than likely he the one was reading. I ran through the rain to the door and rang the bell.

"Hello?" someone said, as they opened the door.

"Dr. Watson?" I asked, knowing he was waiting for me to arrive.

"Hello, Annabelle, oh my goodness look at how much you've grown!" exclaimed Dr. Watson.

"You haven't changed a bit," I laughed. He always had said that when I was younger, but this time it was true. I hadn't seen him since I was ten years old; now I was fifteen..

Dr. Watson said, "Annabelle, I would like you to meet my companion."

A tall blonde man with hawk-like features came to the door. He had a violin in one hand and a bow in the other. His eyes sharp and piercing. He had to be over six feet tall and he was thin."Hello, you must be Annabelle," said the tall man, "You're about fifteen no older and you have a white long-haired cat..."

"This is Sherlock Holmes," interrupted Watson.

"Pray, sit down," added the tall man while sitting down in a green armchair and lighting a pipe.

I looked around seeing many different things. I saw some chemicals by the back

wall. Dr. Watson went to another room to get something. I remember when Dr. Watson first moved to Baker Street all the letters he sent us. Mr. Sherlock Holmes was definitely an interesting man.

Dr Watson walked in holding an envelope. "Here, your mother wrote you."

Dear Anna,

I hope you like where you're staying. I have just started my training. They said that I had great potential. Do you like Mr. Sherlock Holmes? Well ,if Dr. Watson moved in with him then he must be nice. Well ,I must be off.

Your-ever loveing mother,

Catherine McKellen.

After I had read this, I wondered how Mr. Holmes could have known all those things about me after just one look. Then I wondered why he was so silent. I remembered the newspaper articles that I had read: he was the writer. The great detective. Then my thoughts were broken when Dr. Watson came in to the room.

"Anna, would you like something to eat?" asked Dr. Watson.

"Yes please, I'm famished," I answered as I realized how long it had been since last ate.

"So, Miss McKellen, how is your mother?" asked Mr. Holmes as he put more tobacco in his pipe.

"How did you know my last name?" I asked, arching a brow.

"You're all he has talked about this whole week," he said, seeming not to care.

"Really, sir?" I asked.

"Pray, call me Holmes," he said slowly.

"Sir - I mean Holmes, are you the great detective that everyone chats about and who writes in the newspaper?" I inquired.

"You read those?" he gasped, sitting up looking at me in wonder.

"Yes, I enjoy reading your cases," I chuckled, feeling like a child.

At that moment, Dr. Watson walked in with three cups and some cookies on a silver tray. He placed the tray down on a table. Holmes stood up to take his tea, then sat down again. He surely was an interesting man. Personally, I felt very uncomfortable around him.

His gaze fell on me again, "So, Miss McKellen, how long do you plan on staying here?"

I quickly answered, "not long, a few days perhaps."

Holmes laid back in his chair, smoking his pipe. I noticed that Dr. Watson looked like he was thinking about something. I did nothing except sip my tea and eat a cookie or two politely. Finally, Watson broke the silence.

"Anna, how is your mother doing in her studies?" he asked smiling.

I looked at him trying to find words. "Well, mother said she was doing fine."

The clock struck ten. I yawned lightly, then finished my tea. Mr. Holmes finished his tea, then started to stand.

"Well, good night Watson, Miss McKellen," he said stumbling into his room. With that note, I was tired and getting very sleepy. It had been a long ride. Dr. Watson saw this and stood up. He took the tray to the kitchen and came back.

"You look tired," he said slowly.

"Yes, it has been a long day," I sighed.

"Follow me, I'll show you to your room."

So I went to bed. When I was alone in my quiet room, thoughts poured into my head about that strange man, Holmes. 'Watson must have told him about me. Wait, Dr. Watson didn't know I had a cat. What if Mr. Holmes is a genius- oh that's impossible.'


	3. A Unexpected Guest

The next day I woke to the smell of coffee. I pulled my robe on over my nightdress and slipped outside my room. I looked to the clock; half past seven. Then I walked silently to the den to find Watson reading the news.

"Good morning," greeted Watson. "How did you sleep?"

I smiled slightly at the thought because I hadn't slept that well. "I had a great nights rest," I said clearly lying ."Where is Mr. Holmes?"

"He's in his room writing something," answered Watson.

I sat down in a chair. The sun had just rose. It seemed nice though it had rained a lot last night. I felt that something strange was going to happen today, but I wasn't sure what. I broke the silence with a question "How did he know all those things about me with just one look?" I inquired.

"There are a lot of interesting things that Holmes can do. He just observes things that others don't care to see."

"Oh, that's interesting," I sighed.

Watson got up from his chair ,"Your mother told me to get you something," he said as he walked out of the room, and came back with a green box. it made a muffeled bark.

"Dr. Watson I don't need anything more," I said looking at the green box. This made me smile. Watson handed me the box. I opened it trying not to shake it. A small blood hound puppy looked up at me with his droopy eyes. He had a small blue ribbon on his black color.

"Did Grandfather say I could have a dog?" I asked.

"Yes, he did. Not to worry," said Watson. "It was he who paid for half of it."

But then, out of the blue, to ruin this happy moment the front door flew open. A tall man stumbled in, blood dripping from his black hair, the expression of fear on his face. In a gasp for air, he fell on his pale face. I screamed, scared out of my wits, the dog behind me.

"Go get Holmes" yelled Dr. Watson, almost as startled as I.

"Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes!" I yelled banging on his bedroom door.

Holmes opened his door. He had clearly been awake for some time. "What is it?"

"There's a man in the den!" I exclaimed.

We ran into the den. Blood was all over the doorway. The man was there was lying there in a bloody fancy jacket . He had black square-toed boots and navy blue pants. Holmes stood over the man's bloody body. He checked for a pulse then sighed.

"Is he," I gulped "dead?" I nearly fainted.

"Yes," Holmes answered in a weird tone.

"What shall we do?" I exclaimed.

"Its all right," said Watson, He noticed that I was really scared.

"No it's not all right! There's a dead man in the doorway!" I nearly screamed. Holmes seemed to have a headache now. He stood up. " Miss McKellen, Watson, go inform Scotland Yard," he sighed.


	4. A Strange Death For The Streets

Dr. Watson handed me the puppy. I followed Watson outside. We went to get Scotland Yard. The police raced to Baker Street and by the time Watson and I got there police were swarming all over the place. Holmes was talking to the man in charge; I think his name was Lestrade. Holmes walked towards Dr. Watson and me. "Shall we investigate this?" he said, as though happy.

It made me wonder why, but then, he is one of the best detectives ever. I sighed,

but no one noticed. We walked inside, cops swarming the place. Holmes went straight to the body to explain what he had found. Dr. Watson seemed to be very interested in this.

"He was hit with a blunt object to the head," explained Holmes. "He also lives by a lake or river of some sort."

"Holmes, may I ask, how do you know he lives by a lake?" asked Dr. Watson.

"It's quite easy to see he has sand in his shoe and his shoes are muddy and barely cleaned. The shoes are basically new, so it shows that they have been through a lot," he said.

"He was married," I said. "The wedding band is gold with a few diamonds. That's kind of expensive... and he has something is his right hand."

Holmes looked in the man's palm and in his hand lay a ladies handkerchief. It had gold initials sown on it (S. M)

"Why would a man have a woman's handkerchief?" said Watson.

"Let's take a look outside!" Holmes and I said at the same time.

"Miss McKellen, you can come, but don't get in my way," Holmes said, not too happy.

I put a leash on Bernard; that's what I had named the puppy. I grabbed my favorite black coat and walked into the den to see Mr. Holmes wearing a harris tweed inverse cape ,and Dr. Watson wearing an old coat with one arm sown back on with a surgeon's precision.

"Watson, let's go," said Holmes, going swiftly out the door.

We went out-side. It had rained the night before and it was still wet when the man showed up. It was half-past two the sun peaking through the clouds. The ground was dry, save for a few puddles.

I looked around. It seemed that not too many people had been outside this morning; only a few footprints showed in the dry mud. There was no one in sight except for a few policemen. I looked around more.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw squared-toed footprints. Holmes had just seen them too. Then I saw pointed ladies shoeprints next to the other set, but the ladies' shoes seemed to go into a run, all the way to a street drain. I looked down to see a cane clearly made for a gentlemen; it was covered with blood.

"Mr. Holmes I've found something!" I yelled, as he walked slowly over with Watson.Holmes looked at it. Soon we went back into the house. We hadn't found anything more. When we got home, Holmes left and didn't return till it was almost six 0'clock. He came in and sat in his green armchair. Anyone could tell that he was deep in thought but I didn't want to wait so I started to talk. "Mr. Holmes did you find anything?" I asked.

"Yes, I did. You see that the cane had a special end that matched the wound on our man," he answered with a mumble as he sat up.

"Good. Sir-I mean, Holmes, yesterday how did you know those things about me?" I did it I asked the question that had been on my mind.

He answered, "It was easy you had a white cat hair on your coat. The hair was long which proved that it was a Persian. You also look about fifteen or sixteen"


	5. Sophia

We spent most of the night talking. He told me that he doesn't like to remember his cases to save room for more cases in his mind. His right words I don't remember. But I remembered "A Scandal in Bohemia I thought that it was very clever the way he used the red paint. It was about nine and I could tell Holmes wasn't used to staying up late. Watson retired soon after nine thirty. I yawned my thoughts still on the dead man.

Holmes spoke," Miss McKellen, I haven't had anyone who understands my cases since I met Watson."

"Please, call me Anna," I told him, " My look at the time! I think I'll retire...goodnight Mr. Holmes."

At that moment, a small knock came upom the door. Holmes got up and answered it. There was a small woman, about 4'5", and she had pointed shoes. Next to her was a tall man, with a briefcase, wearing a suit.

"Is this the home of Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" the man asked.

"Yes, this is he," said Holmes.

"Then this is the home where Marcus Mitchell died?" asked the suspicious man.

"Yes. Then he is the man who passed away here?" I said.

"You poor child," sobbed the woman.

I hated being called a child. The woman sniffed, then sneezed. I took note of that.

"So, Marcus is his name. I take it you are Mrs. Mitchell are you not?" assumed Holmes.

"Yes, Iam," the woman said while still crying.

Holmes took out the handkerchief that we had found. "Is this yours?"

"Yes it is...that's been missing for weeks. Thank you," she said, now holding it lightly.

"May I have your name?" asked Holmes.

She looked up, her golden hair in a small hat her, face covered with a black veil.

The woman wore a small black dress, new fashions. She came from a rich background.

"I 'm Sophia Mitchell."

"And I'm Willis Murphy, an insurance agent...we have reason to believe that some one from this home murdered Mr. Mitchell."

My eye started to twitch, "that's impossible! I was talking with Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes was in his room when who-ever-he-is died!" I exclaimed. This guy was making me mad.

"It's getting to be too late to investigate isn't it Willis?" Watson said as he walked in.

"John! What are you doing here?" Asked Willi.s

"I live here," Watson answered, "please leave Willis," his voice sounded angry.

"Fine goodnight." Willis said walking out the door, the woman close behind.

I wondered how Dr. Watson knew this man and why he asked him to leave. Why did Mr. Murphy suspect Holmes? Yet Sophia must have killed Mr. Mitchell, but if she did, she wouldn't come here to investigate. It's my turn to investigate. The facts are; she knew it was her handkerchief and she had pointed shoes.

"Holmes, we have to investigate! You're the great detective right?" as I broke the silence.


	6. Tea!

Holmes looked calm. He went to his chemistry set. I heard bubbling as I stood there wondering what he was doing when he yelled

"Tea is done!" he yelled which was very odd at this point in time. I mean we had to investigate and he made tea?!

"Mr. Holmes, please lets investigate," I said persuasively.

"No not tonight," he answered while sitting down finishing his cup if tea.

He picked up his violin and closed his eyes. This time he was not playing

Beautifully, he was making a horrible screeching noise. I could tell he was deep thought. Watson retired yet again after the excitement. I just sat down. I started to write down facts.

**Clues:**

**1. Pointed woman's shoes**

**2. Handkerchief**

**3. Cane (murder weapon)**

**Suspects:**

**1. Mrs. Sophia Mitchell**

**2. Willis Murphy**

**3. Unknown**

**Crime:**

**Murder Marcus Mitchell**

**Time of Murder:**

**7:20am**

This case was going to be hard. She defiantly killed her husband. But I tossed the thought aside and I folded the list. I went to sleep.

The next day talking awaked me. I herd Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, and a woman's voice. A knock came upon the door. I wanted to yell "Go Away!" But I was so lazy. Dr. Watson walked in with Bernard following.

"Annabelle wake up, get dressed and hurry about it," Said a hurried Watson.

"What?! It's five am why do I have to get up?" I asked covering my head with a pillow to shield my eyes from the light.

"Teenagers...." Watson sighed as he walked out the door.

I got dressed and walked into the den. The woman from the night before was now crying in the den. She didn't have the man with her. Watson stood listening closely and Bernard sat next to Watson's feet. I started to listen.

"Please Mr. Holmes you have to help me. My sister is trying to kill me," she sobbed

"I'm the real Sophia, she is not. She killed my husband! Please help me."

"We will help you but you must answer some questions," Holmes said slowly"

First what is you sister's name?"

"She's my twin, Scarlet McKaskill," she answered.


	7. Scalet

This was the first time I've seen a detective at work. I wondered if he could solve the case in the next twenty four hours. But that's impossible. The woman got up. She clearly wanted to leave.

"Mr. Holmes, may I leave please I must go home to the children," she sobbed running out side.

"That was weird, "I commented

"Who is the real Sophia?" Holmes muttered to himself.

"That handkerchief was real," I said ",It could have been hers because of the initials...that wont hold as good evidence."

"Good observation," Watson said while in though.

"Its easy, all we have to do is find the real Sophia," I said finishing the plan in my head. "Bernard will help us," I added

"how will he help?" asked Holmes.

"One is allergic to dogs," I said with a smirk.

"How did you know that?" asked Watson.

"By the way that's one sniffed when she came in," Holmes answered

"Exactly," I said ",the first one that came in. and also that man wasn't really an Insurance agent. He's an investigator."

"Anna you're right. Willis isn't an insurance agent, he's a lawyer and a detective," said Watson

"What did he want?" I sighed in frustration.

"He's paid to find a murder and get that woman some money from every one," said Watson.

I added to my list of suspects (Scarlet McKaskill. if she exists). I figured I would go and find out more...but where to go? Perhaps we could go to the home of Sophia? I had to ask Holmes.

Then I herd the bell ring. This time I answered. There was Lestrade and some men.

I let them in. Holmes asked if I would stay in my room. I did as he said till it was at the least two I walked out to see what was going on. They were talking. This case sounded familiar to Lestrade. I listned to what he was saying and now every thing made sense,

'Apparently another woman tried the same thing under a different name. This was a sign. I knew we had to find the woman I know she didn't have a twin. In fact her name was Scarlet McKaskill when she married Marcus Mitchell'. We had to find her today. Holmes knew she was coming back soon so he let the police stay. I went to my room again, I felt in the way as they all spoke.


	8. The Great Chase

Finally at four on the dot she appeared. Of course she knew the jig was up when she saw the police so she pulled a gun, though she didnt shoot. She ran to a carriage and made her way off.

"Damn it," sighed Holmes.

"We didn't get her?" I asked because I was in my room when this all happened Dr. Watson told me every thing that happened.

"No she got away," said Holmes walking out side.

I followed with Dr. Watson slowly out the door. When we got out side I saw something, it was a small slip of paper. I picked it up and saw it was a train ticket. Holmes was starting down the street with the police.

"She wont get far...she forgot something," I laughed holding the ticket in my hand.

We left to the train station as soon as all the police were redy. We got there and there was a woman arguing with the ticket sales men. Holmes took his chance now.

"Miss Scarlet McKaskill you under arrest for the murder of Marcus Mitchell!" he yelled.

Every thing happened so fast. Apparently I had fainted. But I knew they had to have caught her but a doubt still sat in my thoughts

When I woke at Baker Street I saw Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes chatting about something. I sat up looking troubled. Wondering if we caught her or not.

"I see you finally woke up," said Holmes.

"Did we get her?" I asked slowly standing.

"No," said Dr. Watson in defeat.

Watson filled me in. She had jumped in front of a train and they never found her body. So now it was over but I knew it wasn't. All returned to normal after that but the thought still lingered; where was Scarlet McKaskill?

A few weeks later, I had to leave Baker Street to live with Grandfather. I didn't want to leave. This place was so extraordinary.

"Holmes, you've met your match. Anna knows almost as much as you and she's only fifteen," bragged Watson

"Well then if I ever need help I will ask you," he said shaking my hand.

"Good bye, I'll miss you. Thank you Holmes for letting me stay. Thank you Dr. Watson for Bernard."

I never forgot that house and the men in it and I don't think Bernard forgot either.

Mother died soon after, and Grandfather and I moved to America. We still managed to keep in touch with Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes. I couldn't wait to return to England but that was a story for a different time.

The End.....or is it?


End file.
